Twelve Memories
by gawainthegreen
Summary: Sequel to 'In the Lengthening Shadow.' Imladris battles to save Aragorn, but does he want to be saved? Aragorn remains imprisoned in a world of dark dreams, while his family search their own thoughts as the battle for their loved one's life commences.
1. Shadowlands

**_TWELVE MEMORIES_ **

**_I_ **

**_SHADOWLAND_ **

**Depth**

**(Aragorn – Point of View)**

**I have climbed alone through many rocky places and found myself thus isolated and alone with my dreams, yet none as dense and dark as this. Even though you are behind me I see nothing, I hear nothing. With one moment you might slip away into the forgotten pockets of the mind. In my memories, I am alone, and through the stark grey and dead granite of the rock I forget myself. How long have we wandered thus? Chased here by unknown forces, I see no means of escape. Nothing now except the dread of night in the mountains and I am afraid to sleep. There is death in this place I can tell. Only your hands, on my ankles as we crawl, suggest the faintest breath of life within the dank halls. And then there was the fall… deeper than the Earth perhaps… or just deeper than memory. **

**Unconsciousness comes and all is forgotten. I wake in dreams of green and pleasant wilderness and I recognise what I think is my home. There are faces kind and wise, glowing in the slender light of fantasy but they are not close and I cannot distinguish those that speak. **

**Then life wakes me, I ache and am deeper than before and believe myself truly alone. I call names, the names of all that I love and there are no answers. I sweat and feel the moisture run down shivering skin. There is fear in the air more potent than before. The rock faces swim ahead of me and I see features; they whisper doom. Here there is nothing but a pale emptiness and yet the voices of the rocks still whisper fear in my thoughts. I am trapped. There is no escape. My bones feel shattered and perhaps they are. I give up all hope and reason. There is nothing left to guide me here. Bright Eärendil does not shine out at the brink of hell.**

**There is a drumbeat, but I cannot move. They will capture me and there will be nothing to do but surrender, but I cannot move. They come closer; perhaps there is only a thin roof of Earth now, which separates me from them. My friend, you are lost somewhere above… do not succumb, do not let them find you for they will not leave you alone, but will harass you until death. I cannot lose you to the powers of darkness, even should I lose myself. You return to my thoughts with a vivid intensity, I think I promised you I should not die today. Can a man break a promise so easily? My shattered body tells me yes; you have suffered enough. They are closer now; their drum beats in time with my heart. Perhaps they have merged and there is nothing left of me now. I can see the cold glint of the dark smile of their eyes, they smile for pain and the fear they sense. There is fear all around. I reach for my sword and I am ready and they will come now. I am ready… there is nothing left to do but fight, although I will lose.**

**Strong arms try to pull me back from the brink but I am falling, again. The rocks disappear and there is darkness…**

**Athelas**

**(Elrond POV)**

'Athelas. Athelas quick!' I mouth the words so fast they would choke me. My thoughts move faster than the words to express them. My mouth is dry and empty, like spring with no rain. The words are sore on my tongue and when I swallow there is no moisture there. I am dried up and weak; perhaps there is no emotion left to bear this hurt. I do not want to look upon your body my son, for the reality burns my vision and blurs my eyes and thoughts to all but your pain.

**Sometimes I look and feel your scars as though they were slashed into my own back. I feel as I did when I looked upon my wife. So helpless, so terrified – all I wanted was to hold her and all I could do was try to save her. She was so childlike when they brought her back to me, her skin singing with pain, her breath constant, running like her tears. Then I thought I could not tend her, she who had become my world. Would not the hurt I must inflict count twice for the lashes upon her skin. I watched then, hand caught within hers, though it seemed she did not feel it. **

**The air from your punctured lung whistles in my ears and I know there is no more time for contemplation. My hands are inside you now, slippery with your blood, shaking with quiet fear; if I should slip what then? I reach beneath your ribs, careful not to aggravate the fragments of shattered bone further, remnants of your fall into darkness. They tremble slightly as your heart gives out a faint beat, shuddering within your chest. Your body is strong and fights so hard to live. I reach and hope. **

**The shadow of Mordor lives on even in your veins, your blood runs black with shadow. **

**The sweet smell of Athelas now haunts the air of this room, as it has so often before. It sings with hope and brings a new lightness to all the heavy hearts about this bed. The hope it brings is intoxicating for a moment, as though I have drunk too much wine. I gain courage and close this wound within your chest, my mind cleared for the moment by the sweet intoxication of the healing herb. It is the shadow of your blood that drags me back to dread. **

**This poison smells like Morgul savagery. Alone, it will not kill I think, but slows the senses and numbs the mind to all except blackness. It claims your wits first, and then your body until everything is forgotten. In time even your heart will forget to beat. Your blood is so dark it seems like ink. I wonder how many times they have fed this to you? How far you had fallen to the darkness? **

**If I look into your eyes now I see that you are trapped within the murky world it has created for you. Your pupils wander as if preyed on by some unknown enemy that has given chase. Your eyes alone of your body are active, confused and furtive as a rabbit. I allow your eyelids to close once more, easing the pain, for myself at least. It seems as though I look upon you, locked in that void from above. It appears as a great abyss, wide and craggy, deep as thought, the bottom, further than memory. You do not know me and are lost beyond my guidance, perhaps beyond my calls, I weep for you beyond the choking veil of darkness.**

**My mind is searching for a recollection, weaving through millennia of knowledge. The smell drags me back to Mordor. Mount doom, where men lost hope. Surely I cannot lose hope now, not to Mordor. I stand on the brink breathing the acrid taste of fire and my lungs are scalding. It merges with my image of you and you are there below, helpless and consumed by flame. Is that your mind my son? Wreathed in red and consumed by flame?**

**My reverie has caught me unawares and my hands have left your chest and have been caught before me in silent wonder. There is a flurry around you. All have crowded around your chest.**

**They cry out. 'Lord Elrond quick!' I blink and have returned to rest in this room. 'His heart no longer beats.' All thoughts vanish and my mind as blank as your vision. My hands race to your heart, where they should have remained. There is no fragile kick of life, you are leaving the earth floating from my reach, I feel it in my very soul. Your heart must beat. My being now beats with this single thought and purpose. Elladan stands at me side and passes me the herbs I need. He knows my need before myself now and his hands are my own. I open your mouth, forcing them down your throat.**

**You choke and your body convulses refusing to take this medicine. I see that you have been forced before and my own throat tightens at the thought. Elladan takes over, lifting your head to force you to swallow. I place my hands above your heart and pour myself into you, my strength, and my power, my life. It tingles in my fingertips as it leaves me. I do as I have taught you to do. I have seen you stand above another, your mind focused upon them and their healing and I was so proud. The hands of the king are healing hands they say. You must live to fulfil your purpose. I call, I call until my throat is raw with sobbing and my plaintive cries beat like thunder against my skull. 'Estel, Estel, Lasto beth nin, tolo dan na ngalad!' Come back to the light.**

**Your body shivers beneath my cold touch. I am ice and you are fire. Can ice put out fire? I panic for the drug has sent you into violent convulsions; you shake as a leaf blown by a powerful wind. I panic for your bones are not set and your ribs are knives within your chest. The heart shudders, then stills, then shudders again sending quivers of life through your skin. You have come back, my body sighs. The sigh so deep I feel I could sink to the floor. You have come back I think, but still I can make no connection with you. Your body beats but you have not returned but float still beyond my reach and you have not answered my call. **

**Your temperature soars now, as fever like winter sets in. I fear it will burn away your flesh until you will return to the ash of Mordor. They place ice around you, but you are soaring beyond, high above where none may reach you. I do not know how to counter this poison, for it will attack again. I must wait and be ready.**

**I am ready now, dressed in the armour of healing. I will face this battle with you' my son although only you can fight it. The alarm has brought me to myself with desperate clarity and I will not slip again. **

**Air without Breath**

**(Legolas POV)**

**Night has fallen but Imladris is never silent to the ears of an elf. From many corners sound the gentle sighs of elves at rest. I wander around your bed, my feet like air without breath for they create no resonance against the cold slabs beneath. Your father sits beside you, eyes open but for this time not alert. His fingers have found a home next to your pulse and do not stir lest they should register some unknown change. The fingers are those that have known you since childhood. They know your heartbeat now as if it were their own. I feel it too, faint yet heavy within my chest as my own; you live; it tells me. My heart tells me but my head refuses to believe this truth as your chest refuses to acknowledge your life.**

**I have watched, caged by my fears and helpless in the face of my grief. I am vaguely aware that I have refused to leave your side, as if magnetically drawn to your pain. They have tried to persuade me to rest but I will have none of it for the weight that envelopes me clouds even my dreams and I should find no rest this night. So I have stood, time out of mind it seems, as within you a personal battle commences – you will be called by many voices; I wonder which call will you follow?**

**My mind wanders aimlessly above the paths we have trod together. So many times I have followed your voice, a sliver of sunlight in the icy darkness. Images flood my senses: it was very cold. My thoughts have been jarred by a memory. So cold it was, and dark too. There were rock faces tarnished like old leather, they scuffed beneath my knees. We were crawling, something warm was in my grip: your ankles, firm and strong amid the cloak of the mountain paths.**

**Something came; it churned the brains within my head like milk to butter. We fell, or you fell (I don't remember now) our paths have become merged in my head, entangled like string. I fell out of time and my world changed to bright colours, shapeless tones. I awoke to the beating of distant drums beneath. I called to you but you did not answer. I lay bound by the thunder within my own ears, unable to follow. You promised me you would not die that day. I feared for you? Could I ask such a thing of you if they took you? Would it not be better to die? My wishes, however, remain constant.**

**I look upon you now and ask myself the same question. Can I ask such a thing of you? To live when no hope may remain for you, to fight this pain only to be faced once again with a grey morning and a shadow in your heart? What would I choose I wonder? To be at your side once more, to utter my own goodbye with a free heart, that is what I wish. I cannot let you go I see it now. Your life and your purpose should be green and I at your side for many years hence. Fate would not be so cruel as to take one so loved and needed.**

**In my reverie I have moved toward the window. Morning blossoms bright above and the stars fade to innocent shadows of night. Frost blooms white and cold against windowpanes. The brilliance is fierce – for no shadows lay yet upon this vale except that which beats heavy upon my brow. I cannot bear to look upon the morning for the intensity sickens me with its beauty. It seems as though I can no longer see the loveliness of the earth, I who have seen the ash of Mordor. The frost is mocking in its purity and the poison of Mordor lingers in my thoughts – I cannot escape its power. I close my eyes and turn again to darkness and to you.**

**Darkness **

**(Aragorn POV)**

**I am surrounded by a language, one I have never heard or felt; grating harsh against my ears, like the lashes they have released against my back. This place too seems devoid of light, perhaps there is a narrow window in the top of this room. Perhaps they mean to deny me the light of faith and of hope. Can man succumb so easily? Is darkness so great a trap? Yes perhaps it is; I feel I might die for want of sun, for want of light and life. Like grass I will burn in the sun and it can be too sharp, but in the sunlight truth is also revealed, I can see far into the distance, in the distance there is hope. **

**In darkness I am hidden, no one will find me; men do unspeakable things in the darkness. My world is that of light and the elves are the fairest of all creatures, they will not remain in a world of shadow. I feel as they perhaps. My hands will not move and sharp fingers of rock find their way into the curves of my scars. The pain no longer moves me, the agony burns with no intermittence, not in short bursts but in long drawn out spasms from which there seem no rest. **

**There is something left within me, some reminder that they will return, that though alone in this room, I am never truly alone here. Like the Lidless Eye itself they are watching me. My movement is my folly and they will punish me soundly for it. My limbs cry out for freedom, for movement, the feel of warm grass, solid and slender under my feet. I hear voices and noises outside the door. It is heavy and black with wood, perhaps with age, or maybe it is blood – there is a stain here and there. The voices are heavy and black and perhaps the blood is mine. How is it distinct? Does it smell different? Does it matter whose if it tells the same story? **

**Now they have returned, they that would haunt me. Their faces have dark corners, and in the shadow one appears much like another, until they blur to one man, menacing and terrible. I think that I cower, trying to find the edges of this hole, there must be shadow there and I can hide. Yet shadow is never safe it seems and they seek me through it until there is no where left to cower, but like a single flower shattered by the winds of the plains I am caught in the trap of their power. **

**The faces appear to be speechless, toneless and yet I remember I heard them from behind the door, muffled in monstrous shades. Eyes tell no story except of malice. It is their eyes I see, though the kind faces are always distant. Even as I reach out they pull back and I begin to believe they never mean to find me. The flesh that clings to my arms now notes the harsh claws of nails, untrimmed and sharp. They gnaw through my skin until I believe they have reached bone, lifting me from the floor. I would spit in their face; they cannot touch my heart so easily. Skin is only so deep, but strength lies buried much deeper. Yet I know what it is they would do to me, and I strive to be nobler. **

**I fumble for freedom and limbs are lashing now. I am in their hands, strong, livid in the small light that comes from the window, so high. I seem to have fallen below the Earth, can this be hell? I hear my own voice as though I am outside the room, and I want to beat on the door, allow myself to enter, but my body has taken over now and my mind seems shut out. My limbs, I panic, might be torn from my body as they are grabbed from my sides. The arms stretch from deep sockets like elastic and it seems they will never stop pulling. My legs are kicked under me and there is a crack as my kneecap shatters like shards of a plate. I am falling and the earth seems further from me than I thought and I fear the force with which I will connect. But I do not and I fall…**

**A breath of air**

**Where I land this time the Earth is soft beneath me. There are trees here; ai Valar, how I have missed their sight, their scent. The valley is cool and temperate, the shadows here are not menacing. It looks, as somewhere I might be comfortable. I could live here. In the distance there is a bridge on which I might stand. Its arches are white and decorative and it is fanned by the branches of cool trees. I think I might have stood on it, alone, with others? I do not know.**

**The rustle of trees is familiar and I think that they know me. They want me to come to them and touch them. I want to take the leaves in my hand and breathe in the heady scent. They whisper to me that they are friends, I have held them thus, and they have held me in their boughs. **

**This is a place I want to stay. For a moment I think I can touch the leaves. Yet I know somewhere deep, that they lie a little beyond my reach, and the sensation of the soft supple green will not reach my fingers. But I want it. Valar, to touch the leaves of nature! They will be wet with dew and I crave it.**

**Here I am closest to the eyes of my dreams. This is the place that they rest. Raven eyes and a star that glimmers gently watch me from the shadows like a friend. They too lie just beyond my reach, but for a moment I am content to allow it. I would rest here, with those shadows of eyes always watching. I would be safe and the world would not haunt me thus except in my dreams. But can I live with the dreams of a haunted man? **

**Then, it is as though a lantern were blown out. I think, if I listen hard I can still here the faint breeze between the leaves, so I am still there? **

**Now the breeze is gone. I am in the darkness, and reaching I cannot feel the shadows of the leaves. These are different shadows. Panic rises and I fall…**

**Like a Butterfly**

**I shudder for it is dark again. I have lost the breath of air. The air here is rotten and I do not want to breathe, yet have no choice. I think I dream and yet the air would suffocate me nonetheless. Perhaps I have used all the clean air.**

There is now a face that jeers in the twilight, pitch night of my dream. I know that I dream and yet the fear is so real that I would run. I am not standing and my limbs, which still scream for movement, are formulated elsewhere. They are now disconnected from the nerves that in desperation would run from them. My mind is faster than them now and I see myself leaving, fleeing this place again and again. The pain is more because I know that I am still here, that my limbs do not obey.

**The face comes towards me, but I cannot see it. Even in dreams my memories have not fully returned to me. I think it is a face I do not want to remember and yet the unknown seems almost worse; nameless fear, like the threat of shadow in Mordor. Mordor, even in my dreams it shifts into the shapes of horror and malice. Yet there are other places, just as dark and deadly, why should one name speak fear so?**

**My body seems on show and my head is drawn back in discomfort; I must stare at the ceiling. There is a drip coming from somewhere. It rolls down my nose and into my mouth. I feel as though I might drown. The water is brown and rancid, but I cannot stop breathing, and so it enters. I think it has entered my lungs, yet in drowning surely comes some release.**

**It does not and there is poison in this water, perhaps in the brown intensity of it. It turns my stomach. But there is nothing in there left to reject, so instead it is left to ravage my body. It numbs my fingers and burns in the tips. I think I would like to vomit – but the danger is too great. My head is held back. **

**I count the ceiling tiles. In the corner there are two about to snap. Perhaps this place will collapse in on me and I will disappear beyond knowledge. Boots are moving above me. They shake the floor beneath my feet, that which should be my constant. It seems but a slim film that might shatter at any moment like thin ice. It holds the only protection I know from the world beyond. My feet are tired as they hang only centimetres from the floor that wishes to take me beyond. **

**There is movement beneath once more. It sounds as the footsteps of trolls, perhaps it is. I do not know what foul allies my captor may have acquired. I no longer fear their coming for I would welcome death. My body aches with the poison forced upon it and my limbs feel uselessly stretched like a bow pulled too tight. **

**There is a fluttering in front of my eyes, bluish tinged. There is a butterfly beautiful and healthy with my line of vision. It flies like my hope and reminds me that I live. I long to hold it, to feel the touch of life against my dying skin but I know that such a movement will bring to an end its frail life. I cannot destroy that which seems to bring me peace. It flutters next to my face. I know it touches my skin and yet I cannot feel the brush of life. It is as though I have died and stand watching another in my place. It is what I have longed for. **

**I shift my limbs. Pain races through them arriving like an arrow within my lungs as they strain to breathe. The fluttering moves off and becomes dimmer in my ears. I strain to hear, but the beating of wings is replaced by the beating of feet. The water above me is as a flood now and the boards that float beneath me shake mercilessly. I can see the void between them. The beating becomes more intense and they snap like the bowstrings that seem to hold my limbs. **

**It is as though the world has lost its balance. Unseen objects crash from the wall and I cower within my bonds, I do not want to follow them. In the end I have no choice. The pins that held me thus formulated have worked their way loose and will no longer hold my weight. I hold my breath as though by emptying my body of air I can restrain the fall into darkness by lightening the burden to hold. I wince as first one hand comes loose then the other. I should be joyful to be once more free. My arms are sore and bleeding. As I move the blood shatters and slides in rivulets alone the taut muscles. There is a final jolt like lightening. I think the troll stands over me once more, bearing its great grey foot like the oppression of destiny. My breath races over the threshold of my lips, refusing to be trapped any longer. I hear the snap of the bonds that hold me. There is nothing left to tether me here and I fall! The darkness is blinding….**

**A Fading Star**

Elladan walked softly into the room, unwilling to wake the sleeping elf. It seemed to him that Legolas slept so much now. Usually at the side of his brother – his arms would rest upon Estel's pillow. At first he had thought this nothing unusual, for Legolas had paced his friend's room relentlessly, glaring for any sign of change or recovery in the man. He could not rest. Now he could do nothing but.

On drawing back the curtain slightly, letting the warmth of sunlight dance upon the bed, Elladan looked and saw that his father was standing at his brother's side. His expression like his brother's condition was fixed in anxiety and grief. New lines had worked their way into the fabric of his wise face.

Elladan knew the answer but he asked nonetheless: "Is there no change in my brother Ada?" His father did not answer, but his eyes, glimmering with tears and the shake of his head told more than words would ever do. Elladan moved to his side and then knelt at the bed of his brother. Gently he took the hand that had fallen to the side and held it to his face. "He is warm." This statement required no reply but demonstrated the continued fevers, which burned in Aragorn's frail body.

Eventually he stood once more and drawing his eyes reluctantly from his brother they came to rest on the elf sleeping in the corner. At once his face became contorted with worry. Legolas was grown pale and his skin seemed translucent. Elladan thought he could see the bones shimmering through the skin and it seemed as though he might eventually disappear. He had never seen another elf look thus before. His mind was blurred with misunderstanding. Why was this happening to Legolas?

Turning to his father, Elladan's eyes frantically queried the situation. He did not understand and yet there was a pain, an anxiety, which would not leave him. "Ada," he seemed for a moment, reluctant to continue, as though he knew what the answer might hold. "What is wrong with Legolas. He sleeps so often now and seems listless when awake. He was physically unhurt, how can this be?"

Elrond looked sadly into his son's eyes, but did not reflect the frantic searching. He looked as one resigned. "He is fading my son." The answer slid from him soft and long. On speaking the word 'fading' his eyes closed for a moment.

"Why?" Elladan's frantic search began again. His world was completely at odds. His brother was dying and now his friend had given up hope.

"From grief," whispered Elrond simply. "It is what becomes of elves when they grieve. The love between your brother and Legolas is so strong that he simply does not wish to live if your brother does not survive. He blames himself for Estel's condition. He will fade into nothing and find Mandos."

Then, surrounded by the sad heavy air of the room he left, suffocated by hopelessness. Elladan's face was washed with tears and his heart bitter at the loss of so many that he loved. Angrily he rushed from the room. Legolas opened his eyes and found himself alone with his grief.

**Beneath the Greenleaves**

**(Legolas POV)**

**I feel light and weary, as though my body were no longer a part of this Earth. I have risen from the chair that has held me like a prison these last days. How many days has it been? Elves, they say, do not note the passage of time and so it is for me. I cannot think of a day when you were not light before me, skin glowing with unnatural heat. My limbs wish to refuse but I urge movement on them, as a child taking its first steps. My footsteps are so light that I do not touch the Earth, but float above it.**

**Your body is locked in pain. I can see it in the tensed muscles of your face. A film of sweat covers your shining skin. The glow is almost elf like in the flush of this fever.**

**Briefly I look upon my own skin. It is pale; transparent almost, like a think veil of rain across a mountainside. I am barely here, the last tendrils of my being cling to the world whilst you cling. It is as though my fingers are now entwined with yours. When you let go, we shall fall together, for a time.**

**I am fading, though they would not speak of it before me. I am now as a withered tree upon a weather-beaten plain, more dying than alive; life seeping from me as winter becomes more bitter. I know that I fade and yet the sensation has no fear for me and I have not the resources to fight this conquering doom. Instead I will leave this life quietly, no last breaths ragged as shattered glass nor words that will create or end grief. I will simply sink from the world, like a shadow on a sunlit morning and be no more this side of the sea.**

**Your father once again sleeps at your side as though time itself has begun to fade and this moment might be the last of the world. I hover by your head, hands now knotted ready to take flight as you do. Your hands are hot and shiver in small tremors and yet they warm as all warmth threatens to seep from my body. **

**It is warm; so very warm now. I could be comfortable like this, the cold creeping of shadow has lost its power and there is a shimmering ahead, warm like a spot of sunlight among forest trees. The shimmer is silver and gold and white all at once as though I walk toward the centre of a rainbow. Gone are the cool tiles of Imladris, my feet fall full and heavy upon a verge of grass; it is soft with incredible clarity. Middle Earth was never this clear. **

**Something lies before me, long and dark in the grass; I think it is a body. I walk, slowly savouring the breath of warm air upon my skin; it seems to wash me as though I were never clean before. **

**At last I reach the body. It lies unmoving in the dewy grass, crowned with pearls of water. It is a man; he lies clothed in green. Dark hair curls unkempt across the noble brow. The eyes are closed and the lips seem unmoving as in death. The attire is poor and yet there is an air about him that seems dignified beyond his means. **

**I kneel beside the body and for some reason I reach out. The brow is cool with gentle lines that speak of a gentle heart. The skin is knotted and I think he must have led a hard life and yet there is something inviting in the grim contours. Again I reach, this time taking a hand within my own. The knuckles are gnarled and scarred and would seem to have seen many battles. I take each finger and study them one by one. One bears a strange ring - two serpents and a green stone that shines like eyes – one devours the other upholds the stone. It seizes my vision and my thoughts; I know this ring, for I have seen it many times. I weep.**

**'Estel, Estel' I am beside you, can you hear me?' I beg of the warm air. It is becoming stifling. **

**'He is not here! He has gone beyond where you cannot follow.' Voices cry, mocking in the empty air, like vultures in the night. My knees falter and I land upon the soft grass again, my hand still gripped around your limp one. My tears are real and spill recklessly across skin and plant as though they alone might bring life to resurge. **

**'Estel,' I cry as one possessed, I cry for my loss. I am an elf; I do not know death and for so many years have shielded myself from it. Now it engulfs me in its emptiness and I try to beat my hands against it. I squeeze your hand so hard that the blood might begin to flow from it. **

**'Do not follow the hands that try to take you! It is not your time. You have so much to live for!'**

**My voice does not seem to penetrate the thick still air of this clearing and I do not think you hear me. Your hand is losing its grip.**

**How far is there left to fall?**

**(Aragorn POV)**

**I think I have reached the bottom of the Earth, is there no one there to catch me? I am ready to let go. I feel the tethers which hold me here, locked in the world of dreams, tense then loosen. Soon I will leave the pain of life behind, move beyond to a world where it cannot touch me. I feel I have suffered enough. In the distance there are hands and they are welcoming. They are ready to cut the bonds that tie me to the world forever. **

**I am not like the elves, whose fate, whether they would choose it or not is to remain within the circles of the Earth. They are bound with Arda. However this is not the fate of men, which for so many years they have lamented, and tried to reverse to no avail. And yet, I welcome the release. I can see that the hands are inviting and kind, I think they will offer me a better place. The burden of life gone, perhaps I will embrace a new immortality. I want to go with them and reach out. I think they might stop me falling, the feeling terrifies and I do not wish to go lower but feel safe and secure.**

**Yet it seems I am not ready yet. Once more I try and strain, but they remain inches from my grasp. But I can see their faces now, some blurred with a light I cannot fathom, others, (I think she is my mother) smile with benevolence. I had not believed Mandos to be thus, but merely a continuation of this world. They await me and I feel it is my time to go. I know I had a purpose once, but now it is gone. I float…. And feel…**

**Now there is another voice that has entered my thoughts, and tugs on the tethers, which have not yet dispersed. It pains me and I do not want to answer this call, and yet the strength of it lifts me, drags me through the rocks, the mountains and strange lands through which I have fallen. I feel the rocks ripping open the wounds on my back and I am on fire. I am trying to find the release I once had, struggle to free myself from the world, reach out to the hands that were offered, but there is nothing. There is nothing for it, nothing left but this call in the darkness I must go, find the strength to answer it, to pull away from the hands of the dead in the stark darkness. My lungs take a real, deep breath, and pain wracks my body, but it is my pain and I feel it. It is there and I reach out to touch its fingers, welcoming the sense it gives me. My lungs are opening wide and I breathe again. **


	2. Awakening

II 

**Awakening**

**They held me down so long I almost drowned **

**Aragorn:**

**Breathing, ai Valar, the challenge, I am breathing. I test my lungs and they are weak and are like lead within my chest. I wait, tense and breathless, anxious not to take the next. There is fear, great fear that I have not felt before. I fear the world will have turned, as my dreams of late, to darkness. I fear that the future is mapped before us; empty, useless, a waste of slaves and mockery. **

**There is pain; agony of my eyes that fight to burst open without mercy and against my will, they will rip from my head leaving it raw and lost to sight. There is pain, of breathing; my lungs are too large and my chest is too small. There is pain; my skin, it is scarred and raw, the softness beneath me rubs without sympathy.**

**There is numbness, a new sensation? I do not know. I remember that I fell and fell out of all time and knowledge except my own. I was numb and did not feel the crash to earth.**

**There is sound, sound from without and not from within. Evidence of a world that continued beyond me, survived me. It is a pitiless world that regards me not, but tosses me from one situation to another, until once again I am breathing and within its grip. There is breath, I focus and take another. My body winces with regret as the sea like depth rattles my bones, shatters my peace. I am not whole.**

**Elrond:**

**I slept and sleep drew from me such pleasant dreams that for the world I would have lost myself within their sweet embrace. I was with her, she walked beside me and though her face was hidden from view her skin was soft as milk and clung to mine as though it had fitted always. She did not speak, but her hair, breeze light, brushed against my face. I want to stay here, in this place. Something calls and longs for me to wake. Warmth spreads through myself and I refuse the call; here I can be whole. My hand is within another; it is tight around me. I think it is she. My eyes; my thoughts will wrench me from her. I fight the urge to wake but she is gone and comfort is shattered. I will wake.**

**Aragorn:**

**Flickering flames of colour now dance before me as my eyelids stray from control. They open and shut forcing me into perception. I do not lie within my mother's grasp. They focus; there is light, like no light I can recall. It is not dull or sharp with red and washed with blood, it is not black and tinged with ash. My eyelids flicker and the focus is clearer, I can make out swirls of ceiling like morning mist. **

**I can feel, alongside this numbness. Skin touches my skin. It is soft and so light it ought to have come from my dreams; but my dreams are black and dreadful to behold. It cannot be of this world. This skin has fingers; I can sense them, though I cannot see. I believe they are entwined with my own. **

**It is quiet, I can hear the flicker of my eyelids; the sound of my beating heart; dreadful, erratic; it frightens me with its intensity as though it wishes to burst from within. There is a step; I hear it faint as a tremble; it comes toward me. So, I am not alone. My body convulses me in fear; they are coming. My mind strains to escape, sending frantic signals to my limbs… escape… run… they will come. **

**My limbs; they cannot shift. My legs, my arms cry frantically with agony, my mind screeches, deafening my other senses. They are numb to my cries, my calls. I cannot move them. My neck, my head cannot turn. I am locked within the walls of my own wreckage. I will not cry out; they shall not know my weakness. I cannot move.**

**Shaking, I am warm, so very warm. My chest closes in on myself in panic; the bones are sharp and deadly and shove themselves toward my lungs, grating each other with piercing pain; shattering my breaths. **

**Legolas:**

**Your hand was within mine. It began to lose its grip. I thought I began my descent from the earth, but something tethered me here. **

**It is sudden when it comes. Shudders charge through my bones and through my nerves, and through my hands and skin; as though I am but an autumn leaf and the room is filled with gale. You shake I realise, your chest rattles and breath ragged and impatient is slipping from you. I am here. I am whole and within this room and the air is clean and fresh and cuts like ice. **

**Eyes are open. I grip your hand for fear that you might blow away. The eyes I see are desperate and searching as though filled with blind panic and I know you cannot see me. You tremble more and gulp for air and shake within my grip and I shall not hold you. **

'**Estel' I whisper, but the sound is empty and you have not heard me. 'Estel, Estel I cry, Estel you are here, I am here, see me, feel me. It is Legolas, this is home, I am here.' The words are unconscious; slipping from my mouth in wonder, shock. I want so much to feel you whole and safe. Your eyes are still painfully dynamic, dredging the air for a sign that you live I think. I move within your vision, your trembling fingers still within my own. I move close so that my breath brushes your face and I have blocked your view. **

'**Estel, Estel I am here.**

**You calm a little. You have seen me. Your eyes cease their wandering and my soul beats with the joy unbound, you recognise me; you know me. I no longer belong to the void of empty memories. **

'**Legolas' it is the word I have longed to hear, I am wild with the delight of it that I might leap from the window at this moment. You know me. The word is spoken slowly, as though language is a new and unfamiliar process. The voice does not rise above a whisper and is dry and cracked as drought; but it is there and the words are familiar. The effort is monumental and so draining that I fear to lose you again. Concentration and pain are dented within your features; wild; afraid.**

**You speak in Sindarin. Your words are terrible and drain my joy like colour from dawn. **

'**I cannot move. Help; please; I am trapped' The words are harsh and desert dry. Your lips are chapped and sore. 'I am numb I cannot feel. They are coming.' **

'**Estel' I beg, so tired, too tired to begin the fight again. 'Estel they are not here. This is Imladris. You have awoken; you are free; they are not here, they are behind.'**

'**No;' you cry with terror pushing your cracked voice to the limits of its capacity and I think it might choke you. 'They are here; I cannot move Legolas, my legs, they are numb; please, please they are here. Legolas!' **

**The words are deadly, yet how can you know you break my heart once more. Your father stirs and silently I think the Valar that I shall not be alone to persuade you; to hold you; to love you. **

**Elrond:**

**I have been dragged awake by a sound. The sound is from a dread nightmare; it sounds like the voice of Sauron as he whispers within my thoughts. The sound is dry and rasps like long forgotten breath. I wish it would end.**

**My eyes jump open with shock and I am greeted with the greatest joy. Hope, he has returned; my hope. The grey eyes are open and moving and the dreadful voice is his. 'Legolas, Legolas he calls.' Delight shakes me and shatters through me like water breaking upon stone. He lives, he lives. My soul soars; Elbereth, oh Elbereth Gilthoniel. You have given him back to me. I could not be more grateful. My prayers fill the room and deafen me to the cries my son emits. **

**It is only later that I hear, that I sense the shattered bones that tremor within my grip. **

'**Ada?' the wild croaking startles me with a word that I recollect. For a second the joy is heightened. He knows me; Estel knows me; he has come back to me. I do not note the fear; the dread; the emptiness with which he calls. **

'**Ada, Ada, Ada,' The word punctuate the constant struggle for breath, For the first time I see the pain within his features as each is taken. Then the reality of his injuries creeps back to me. He is still hot. He cannot move. My mind takes me to his bed and I find myself within him, having woken, limbs outstretched and useless; the poison of Mordor within my thoughts. I fear, as he must. **

'**Ada, Ada, Ada,' his song is relentless. 'Ada I cannot move. Please, I cannot move.' He does not seem to address me, but addresses the very air he breathes. I do not dare to answer.**

**Wounds that will not heal**

Disappointment comes in many guises and so it comes to Imladris, filling the gaps of silence and suffering that had gone before, manipulating and moulding despair to fit new forms. It is at odds with the joy that all wish and demand; the joy that had come when eyes had opened and fever had cooled.

Despair creeps between the father and son, whilst, as dusk washes the sky, they speak, in hushed tones of the pain yet to be lived; as they discover that living alone, will not be enough to satisfy.

Three are within that room. One, the friend, shadow like and silent, sits breathing at the left of the bed, hand clamped around the weaker one within its grasp. The hand is tight like a bond gripping the other to the world and to himself. The expression upon the fair countenance is stern like a soldier on duty; strong, determined. The second; the son, unmoving and desperate, trapped within a body that will not follow thoughts, a body shattered and slow to heal; perhaps it never shall. He peers above, eyes darting between the two stronger wills binding him to his life. To the right of the bed; the father sits; steely and wilful; possessive of this child who has been returned to him. He leans over, imposing his thoughts, his wishes on his frail child, at last a part of him once more.

The father sings, using the ancient tongue to calm in the only way he knows how, to ease the fear of the child, leading him to an uneasy and anxious peace. The son quietens at the sound; the familiar words that echo of a time before the prison and the pain; the cries had been too sore; the breaths too difficult. As he turns from desperation the ragged breathing abates and becomes less intense. The knives of agony subside to a heavy ache. He breathes longer and deeper.

The father speaks softly, rhythmically, not wishing to alarm.

'Estel, my son' he coaxes 'what do you remember?' He questions.

The son speaks. His voice is still arid, although he has drunk water, the words still falter, unused and novel. His sentences are short and pointed. He speaks like a song and it seems he addresses no one.

'There was darkness. There was fire. There was a void with no memories. There were men. I think they hurt me. They had whips and fire. There were others. There was ash and burning. There was a fall. There was darkness. I remember the darkness.'

The words are haunted. 'Ada, what happened? I cannot move? Ada?

The friend's fist clenches harder around the weak wrist within its circle. His features contort, proud and protective. He would throw himself between the father and son if he could avoid further pain, but he is too late, for hurt germinated long ago in this place. Discussion may bring understanding; but it will not clean the slate of the blood that has been shed.

The father speaks; choosing his words carefully, deliberately. He tells the truth and seems immovable as stone solid and still. Inside he is crumbling.

'My son,' he shivers in pleasure that he can at last direct these words at this child who lives and breathes before him; aware; questioning. 'There was darkness.' He repeats the words of dread.

'Darkness took you; but you have come back to the light.' He speaks with hope he is not certain of.

'You were taken. They took you to a place of darkness. They hurt you. You have suffered.' He uses the same rhythm, beating the words in time with his breath.

'You fell. Legolas saw you; he was there. He brought you back to me. Your body was broken. I thought you would not live. Many days you have lain captured by fever and borrowed death. Today you have returned to me. You shall heal.'

He has explained and exhales in relief that the words are gone; have been uttered. He has told the truth he believes, but he also doubts.

The son speaks, plaintive and uttering the mantra he seems to have learned.

'Ada, please,' he searches and scrambles for answers, 'I cannot move… Ada?'

'You fell.' The father repeats the words he wishes to forget. 'Your limbs were wrecked. Your legs, your hips were crushed and broken. Your feet were torn. Your ribs were shattered. Now they are mending, binding themselves once more to make you whole. You will be whole once more my son.'

The son peers with terrible eyes, clear as summer sunrise. He pierces the father with his glare. He will not settle for this blind hope he does not feel. He is numb and weak and filled with darkness. He will ask the question the father does not want to answer. His arid voice is cold and fearful.

'Ada… will I walk again?'

'I do not know.' He replies.


	3. Houses as Ruins and Gardens as Weeds

**Houses as ruins and Gardens as Weeds**

**Aragorn:**

**Wrenching for breath, air fills my lungs, heavy, like muddy water and unwanted. I fight to expel it, but they inflate regardless. **

**Darkness churns around me; the waves are rough like a chaotic sea. Sense tells me I am in Rivendell, and though it feels that I lost, the fight for life is over. But my blindness, the sheer weight of grief upon my chest is like river water; it shrieks through the nighttime bliss of the last homely house. It grates at the door and hisses in the voice of my captors, 'you are still there, it is black, you are nameless: you never left.' **

**If I try hard I remember myself; or at least that which should be myself. I will have been wrapped in the comfort of day's smiling light. Legolas will have sat at my side, glowing with pleasure at the gentle fading of blue from bruised hands and the soft expansion of healthy skin. My body is numb to my wishes; healing itself regardless of its hurts. My body has always been too strong for myself. **

**Night comes and deep grows the shadow that rests in my heart. So wide it feels that it should block the flow of blood. It forces upon me weird images: strange twisted faces that I may or may not have seen. They do not stare but elude my gaze and are harrowed with pain. Even the earth begins to rock from its solidity as though I might float from the edge; it hangs loosely between myself and they. I think no one shall ever reach across my void.**

**The count of my life has forsaken me, (for this I now consider to be my life and none other). Wakeful and desperate, each moment I have been, confined by the shadows of Mordor. To cry out is impossible, my sharp ribs forbid it. **

**They have tried to drug me. Even now I shudder in terror, and yet those that come are those that claim to save me. They bring healing tea; the smell is deep and tastes of nature, sweet like a spring forest. I cannot move so they bring it to my lips. My throat closes, fixed on the sensation that it shall be made to drink. My mind closes; I will not have numb sleep forced upon me again.**

**You cannot, you cannot, I dare not cry. I dare not, will not be saved for this. My sharp ribs forbid sound and so, I stay, wreathed and bound by silence. I have been drugged too many times; the reaction now comes as reflexive, I will not be forced to drink again. It seems the only reaction I have left; my one choice. **

**Elrond POV**

**This endless watch has been as seeing the sunrise and sunset in one motion. He came back and hope as spring blossom flowed within my body. **

**His limbs heal, for his body is strong as those of his forbears. His bones have come from Numenor. He will walk again; should he wish. **

**He does not wish.**

**It is his eyes that answer after all. You should have let me die, they long and plead. "Did you not see that I craved it?" My soul rises up at this denial of my right as a healer, a saviour, as a father, for I love my son dearly. I cannot say quite why except that I can see the truth of your plea. Your body, the wreck of it seemed as a ship, mighty to behold, but dashed against stubborn rocks and shattered; but a toy of Illuvatar. I saw your eyes that leapt in terror and your bones like ice, crushed and wet with blood and yet I demanded of you your life. What more could I have asked? But I will not regret it.**

**I choose another attack with reckless wisdom. You have chosen desperation and in my own I choose guilt. **

'**What then of Legolas?' I cry as a gull in longing. 'Did he not follow you to the shadow with the love of a brother? When you were lost to the world he searched and did not lose hope but saved it. Had you died, he would have faded; should you die he shall fade again.' I put it as a statement, regretting each word as I speak it. You bear so much grief and I would place more upon your wretched soul – my reason asks, how can this save you? I will not listen to reason for I will never give you to the shadow, though Elbereth herself should demand it of me. **

**Do you not see, I plead with myself? How did you become so blind to the light I offer, how did you become so numb? This despair you shrink into, it will destroy us all.**

**You stir, and I begin to believe you have read the very words of my mind. While your body weakens your reason has sharpened to a thin and piercing blade and you slit my thoughts, shredding them like empty paper. **

'**Mordor will destroy us all Ada, as you have foreseen.' I feel naked as though you have seen the very sinews that hold me together piece by piece. **

**Your flickering eyelids close once again, rejecting the pale morning with all her purity and the hope that comes with light. As night's shadows fade to naught, so I shrink from the room, leaving you to your dread.**

**Know that in letting me go, you save me**

**(Aragorn) **

'**Estel' he speaks, soft as the wind I cannot feel upon my skin and though my eyes and ears are closed against the world I cannot help but hear him. I dread the call of this name, which they refuse to deny but repeat until my ears are sore with the effort of forgetting. If he calls enough what shall I offer him but my numb acquiescence? **

'**Your Ada has spoken to me.' It is what I have dreaded for I had not wanted Legolas to partake also of my despair. My anger is bitter as the shadow that has formed around me. I do not want this feeling of anger for it burns my skin and marks me with the darkness of Mordor; it is empty anger and full of hopelessness. **

**There is a touch, gentle as summer morn against my brow. It does not feel as the touch of orcs or evil men, although they are all that my memory now holds. Legolas seems wise and sad, like a great Elf Lord from across the sea – one who has seen death and dawn. I have seen only death, it reeks in my mouth and wrenches shut my eyes. I now bind myself against his words; ready to shun his pleas for life. I have seen the future; cold and empty like the last dust of a long forgotten fire, twisting in empty air until all has been shifted away and is over.**

**He will beg of me to return, if not for my sake or my father's then for his own, he who caught me when I fell. It will not be, for I, or Mordor, have hardened myself against these words. I am weak and the shadow cradles me in its creeping embrace. I do not turn. **

'**Estel, if you wish to die. I release you.' I am released even as he speaks and I seem to float in empty air, devoid of my thoughts. 'I do not bind you to this world for myself, but instead bid you go where you might be quenched of this shadow.' His words are as surprising as the beauty of new dawn in this world condemned to darkness. They touch my skin and unravel my anger until I lie unbound and at his very mercy. **

'**Your heart is broken and if I alone could defeat Sauron, I think perhaps I cannot heal you of this hurt.' **

'**I ask but one thing.' He waits and his eyes are upon me. I do not see, but feel them brushing my skin, desperate to pierce this barrier of anaesthetized darkness I have built to shield myself. Should I turn I am certain he shall shatter me with one glance, clear eyes sharp and deadly in their touch. He wishes to ask something of me. He had taken me off my guard, opened me to attack and once again I am falling. The hands are there in the midst of my darkness, sending my further down with sharp fists. Don't break me again, I plead, I beg; silently. **

'**I ask that you will awake and live this day with me. Open your eyes and do not struggle but feel the breath of living air upon your face. Forget, forget myself if you like, and live as one without a memory. Then I give you leave. You may die and leave the world with the kiss of warmth upon your brow.' **

**It seems so easy, what he says, as if drowning I were to give up swimming, but enjoy the plunge. If I let go the darkness and my thoughts, become a mere spirit, floating with no limbs and no soul; yes, yes, surely, even I can feel the gentle breeze that calls to me, to claim me for a partner in its soft dance.**

**His voice is drifting farther from the body that once I claimed as my own and that the world had claimed as hope. The words, or sounds become fuzzy with distance and I have released my body from this mortal coil. **

'**Let go,' the whisper seems but a nudge between trees, so faint it shimmies now. 'For Mordor would taint you beyond the grave, Let go, leave free of Sauron's shadow and live beyond this time and see the spring in Mandos' halls. Go now, be free, and I shall not fade.'**

**He may still speak, I know not. He and thought disappear. But, if I were to peer from beyond myself, at the gate of the world, I would see that the dusk smiles upon me and her reach is wide.**

**I'll try, oh lord, to carry on**

**Dawn has struck like a great overture and the sky is full of colours; a multitude of harmonic chords blending and bending into one another until it is impossible to see where one ends and another begins. From the bed I gaze lovingly through the window. I have watched, maybe minutes, maybe hours, the change from blue deep as starlight to this patchwork horizon. It passed slowly as a dream and my vision barely noted the change as the tenuous ribbons of pink began to wind their way into the fabric of darkness. I am struck by the brilliance of this dawn as though seeing it through the eyes of another. This body, this pleasure, I believe, cannot be my own. Yet, it does not worry me, this sense of otherness. **

**Though my eyes ache with sleep, I neither actively deny it, nor dread the instance of falling. For once I am content to drift. **

**The birds sing, hidden beneath full branches. They sing for joy and my heart beats a little faster because of this. They concern themselves not with the toil of the day but sing, intoxicated by the delight of the early freedom of dawn. So they have sung each morning in this vale of Imladris, yet this morn, for the first time, I believe they will sing again tomorrow.**

**I am anxious to greet the dawn, old friend. How long is it since I have woken with the slippery embrace of dew upon my cheeks, my hands? I place them now at my sides, pressing them with crushing pain against the soft feathers of my mattress. For a moment it seems that this new strength was a deception, the pain threatens to overcome me, swallowing at my limbs to freeze them within this cage of fear. I press again, numbing myself against the shock of use. The wounds are old and deep and slow to heal. **

**I sit and though I have done so before, it seems as if for the first time. My father came each day, opening the windows for the mocking sun to enter, working her way slow across my helpless limbs. He would watch as I battled, unwilling and excruciatingly slow with this useless task. I felt like a child again, learning too late his first steps, helpless and afraid of the world; too ashamed of this fragile wreck of awkward bones I had become. **

**My legs send confused signals to my brain; in the same instant they scream both freedom and rest. Today I choose the former. I fear that they have no strength in them. When they found me, they say, my hip was crushed beyond recognition; perhaps it appeared a hand, or a foot. I wonder idly, what shapes my body can assume when it will. **

**My feet touch the floor. Soft, it slides beneath my feet and surprisingly it holds me. I am a child, I know, proud and defiant against the world that would force me down at every turn and conquer me. My feet are awkward and quiver with the shattering pain of freedom. My body lurches and I grab for the end of the bed. It seems embedded in time, safe and steady like stone. My feet are clinging to the ground in a denial of my weakness, the window stands but 10 yards away, why should my feet not claim and embrace this movement I wish on them? **

**I stumble, newborn in this dual agony of pain and desire. My hips halt my steps even as I reach out. It feels they may shred once more to fragments; so stiff they are, so unwilling to carry me. **

**Ahead there is but a yard that I must conquer between the sill and myself. So small and yet like the void of the sea it appears to my eyes, fresh from the kiss of death. **

**Closing them, I reach, willing the earth to stay beneath my feet.**

**It does.**

**Searching, my sore hands close tight around the edge of the sill, my skin consuming with delight the touch of such sweet air. The air is warm on my face; warm like the breath of the one I love. It surrounds me, as she would, embracing me as though from afar she reaches for me, suspending me outside my world of pain. **

**I grin wildly feeling oddly proud. A smile stretches tentative and barely used across my features. My face seems to creak with delight at this uncommon expression. It is the child in me I think, which for so many weeks, months perhaps, I have resented. I am ashamed, yet the achievement seems momentous and I admire my own prowess. I want to tell my Ada.**

**He can shred the thoughts of men and reach into their souls when he wishes. How long he has stood there I do not know. My ears, of late, less attuned to the intricacies of a peaceful world, have yet to revise these familiar sounds. It has been enough that they were not filled with shrieking stone or crushing torment.**

**In this moment I do not need his gift. Open delight proclaims itself broad and full across his features. **

**He speaks, voice awash with proud hope. 'Finally you have begun to heal.'**

**At last it is the truth.**


End file.
